Dexter
tossed the bag onto his desk, licked the cheesy goodness off his fingers, and
dried them on his pants leg.

He
searched for all instances of Evilbane, replaced them with Darkbane, saved and
closed the document.

“Now
for some fun,” he muttered.

He
clicked on an icon that took him directly to BATTLEWORLD.There, he chose his favorite character,
Dolgorath, a 64th level dwarf shaman.

Next
he checked his companion list.Oh
goody, Clitora, the fey sorceress was online.

Dexter
sent her a message.

hey
bb wats up

chillin
n u?

wanna
advtr?

sure
cmon in

Dolgorath
hitched up his badger-skin loincloth and used an earth travel spell to reach
Clitora’s jungle lair.

Dexter’s
pulse quickened when she greeted him in front of her grass hut.Her ebony skin glistened in the
torchlight.Her copper hair was
just long enough to cover her bare breasts.An iridescent snakeskin thong was just big enough to let the
game keep an M for Mature rating.In her thigh high spike heel boots, Clitora towered over the stumpy
dwarf who only came up to her waist.

Dolgorath
took two steps forward and Clitora’s swelling thong filled the computer screen.

Dexter
popped open a Blue Boar and took a drink.Be cool, he told himself, just be cool.

shwinnnnng!!!! He sent with a drooling smiley.

lol, and a blushing smilie came back.

Together,
they went to fight the Toad People, uncover a relic, and win sacks of booty.

Clitora
put a hand under her hair and massaged her breasts.

Gold
make me horny!!!

Dexter
coughed a Cheeseyo through his nose.

He
was about to respond when another avatar appeared on screen.

Shit!
It was Garreck the knight, shining armor, billowing blond hair and all!

Dudes!
Wassup?

PISS
OFF!!! Dexter typed.

Clitora
sent a blushing, giggly smiley

Seriously
I will KILL YOUR ASS u don leave now!!!
Dexter typed.

F
U!!! Garreck typed back and vanished.

Dexter
caught his breath.

Ready
2 go? he typed.

bout
time, Clitora responded.

They
clicked on the VIP Members icon and entered their passwords.

Passwords
accepted, the two avatars stripped off their clothes.Clitora removed her thong panty and brushed her hair back to
reveal her unnaturally large breasts.She kept her spike-heel boots on, however.

For
an extra monthly fee of $9. 95, BATTLEWORLD members over the age of consent in
their jurisdictions can become VIP Members.One of the privileges allows players to get naked, talk
dirty, and simulate sex acts, which are limited only by the game programmers’
imaginations.

Dolgorath
removed his loincloth and his penis sprang to a size that violated the laws of
anatomy and physics.

Dexter
sucked down his Blue Boar and lowered his pants and shorts down to his ankles.

Clitora
opened her closet revealing a collection of whips, chains, paddles and other
instruments of pain and pleasure.

As
they engaged in their debauchery, Dexter hit the function keys preprogrammed
with phrases he used in the VIP section so he could type with one hand.

Oh
yeah. . . . Yes baby, more. . . Take it, bitch!

When
it was over, Dexter felt spent and the rush faded.

He
typed noncommittal grunts while Clitora asked if he liked it, what could she do
better, what was his favorite part, and did he think her avatar was fat.

Dexter
studied his lap.In his frenzy, he
kicked the desk and the bag of Cheeseyos fell over, spilling crumbs onto his
sticky right hand and genitals.

It
looked like there was a puddle of bright orange, radioactive mud between his
legs.

What
kind of superhero would this create? he wondered.

The
two lovers parted.No sooner had
he logged off than he heard a brief knock and his door opened.

Jasmine
nodded, satisfied.She checked her
face in her compact, adjusted her skirt and strode out of the mailroom.She added some extra sashay for Tommy's
benefit.

When
the drawings for the new building arrive, Jasmine will be able to examine them
first.Then she will hand them
back to her new puppet, Tommy.Tommy will repackage the drawings and deliver them to their rightful
owner, Katherine, who will be none the wiser.

That
will give Jasmine plenty of time to come up with objections to Katherine’s
precious project and derail it at the next managers meeting.Teach that bitch to steal her ideas!

As
she walked down the crowded corridor to her humble cubicle, she felt a little
sorry for the other interns bustling around her.

She
was about to move up.Some of them
will undoubtedly be working for her soon.

Jasmine
was mentally decorating her corner office when she walked into her cubicle and
saw him sitting at her desk.

She
gasped.He turned around and
looked at her.Damn those blue
eyes!Her recent self-confidence
started to drain through the floor, but she caught herself.

While
he led the way to the nearby conference room, Jasmine kept her eyes above his
waist and ignored his tight slacks.

Everyone
turned away, pretending to not be interested.One wise guy, a recent college grad who thought he was on
the fast track, made eye contact and slowly drew a forefinger across his
throat.

Mr.
Andersen opened the door and held it for her as she entered.The instant the door clicked shut she
whirled on him.

“You
bastard!”

“Jasmine,
I’m sorry about last weekend.”

“When
most men tell me they are single, Bob, they don’t show up at a party with their
wife on their arm!”

He
held up his hands.“We’ve been
divorced for two months now.I
moved into a friend’s place.Angela didn’t have an escort.She thought it would be awkward to arrive at the party alone.”

Jasmine
cocked her head and tried to arch an eyebrow.

“Jesus,
Jasmine, I wish I could have given you a heads up.My ex-wife and I are still friends.Not every divorce has to end in a blood
bath.”

“Did
you fuck her?”

“No!
I put her in a cab and went back inside, but you were gone.”

“Some
of the guys wanted to go on a pub crawl.But I didn’t fuck them, Bob, because I thought I’d be fucking you.”

Bob
put a hand on her shoulder.She
flinched, but didn’t pull away.

“Maybe
I can make it up to you,” Bob said.“I’m being sent to a two week conference this October in Jamaica.I’m going to need an assistant.”

Jasmine’s
shoulders relaxed.“Two weeks?”
she asked.

Bob
smiled and nodded.“Two weeks.”

“Jamaica?”

“Yes,
two weeks in Jamaica.”

She took hold of his tie and pulled him close.“I think, Mr. Andersen,” she breathed
into his ear, “that could go a long way toward cementing our professional
relationship.”

Chapt.4, Intern in the Boardroom, CEO in
the Bedroom, by Jessica Stillwell.

Alice
skimmed through what she had just written.Wise guy?No
one says that anymore. Wiseass?
That sounds dated, too.What works
with ass?Smart-ass.That’s better.She deleted wise guy and renamed the
recent college grad a smart ass.

She
saved her document and closed it.

Alice
picked up a bottle of scotch and filled a shot glass.She leaned back in her chair and tossed it back.As the burn traveled down her throat
she closed her eyes and tried to forget who she was and where she was.

Alice
opened her eyes and noticed she set the bottle down on a folder with a legal
firm’s letterhead.It contained
divorce papers for her to sign and a letter requesting she stay more than five
hundred feet from her husband.

She
took a pack of cigarettes from a desk drawer and fished one out.She walked over to her studio
apartment’s only window and lit up.

No
sooner had she inhaled than she heard quick steps on the outside staircase and
a rap on her door followed by, “Hello?”

Her
father yelled back, “Just letting you know dinner’s ready, honey.Are you smoking?”

“No,
Dad, the neighbor’s bar-be-cuing.I think he burned the burgers.”

“O.
K., come on down when you’re ready.You might want to gargle first.You know how your mother feels about cigarettes.”

The
wooden stairs creaked again as her father walked back down.

Alice
saw her reflection in the mirror hanging on the open bathroom door.She was hunched over the window,
blowing smoke out of it like a college kid sneaking a joint in her dorm room.

She
saw the bottle of scotch on her desk, the bottle of vodka on the floor by her
bed, and the ramen noodle packages scattered over her kitchenette counter.

She
took another drag and thought of blue-eyed men with broad shoulders and Jamaica
in October.

Why
can’t real life be like that?

Chapter
3 - Cyril

Cyril
Masterson tilted his head back for a last dusting of powder.He grabbed a hand mirror, checked his
face and hair, and practiced his smile.He nodded to the assistant standing behind him.

“Mr.
Masterson is ready to begin,” the assistant said to the reporter and camera
operator waiting patiently a few feet away.

The
camera operator adjusted the camera on his shoulder and said “Three, two, one.”

The
reporter put on her perky face and said, “I’m speaking today to Cyril
Masterson, President of Athenian dot com.”

The
reporter turned to her subject and put on her friendly face.

“Mr.
Masterson, both the electronics and publishing worlds were rocked yesterday
when you announced you were slashing the price of your new electronic book
readers in half.Surely, sir, that
is unprofitable even for a promotion.”

Masterson
steepled his fingers and smiled back.

“As
you know, Angela, the publishing industry hasn’t been profitable for some
time.Paper is going the way of
the horse and buggy.If we don’t
get twenty-first century reading tools into the public’s hands soon, book
publishing will be dead.”

The
reporter put on her concerned face.

“Surely
that’s an exaggeration, Mr. Masterson?”

“Goodness
no, Angela.You see, sales have
been flat for the last five years.Meanwhile inflation has increased a total of fourteen percent.Quite frankly, history is marching on
and the book industry is standing still.”

“And
how does your e-book reader fit into this?” The reporter cocked her head and
changed to an interested face.

“I’m
going to place a twenty-first century reading device into every reader’s
hands.Yes, it will cost me money
in the short term, but Angela, if the public continues to lose interest in
books, it really won’t matter.I’m
interested in making money ten years from now, not just the next fiscal
quarter.”

“But
can you afford to wait that long, Mr. Masterson?”

Masterson
removed his glasses, leaned forward and put on his sincere face.“Angela, I’m both a reader and a
patriot.I’m horrified at the
state of literacy in this great nation.If I can give future generations the pleasure of reading Tom Sawyer or The Grapes of Wrath, then my entire net worth will be well spent.”

The
reporter’s eyes got misty.The
interview moved on to lightweight fluff such as his favorite books and
celebrity gossip in which Masterson laughed at rumors of his dating some
starlet or other.

At
the end of the interview, makeup was removed, hands were shaken and promises of
“Keep in touch,” were made.

In
the elevator, the assistant started to speak, but Masterson held up his hand
and shook his head.

“Walls
have ears.”

In
the back of the limo on the way to Athenian headquarters, he made himself a cup
of tea, took a sip and said, “We can talk now.”

“The
focus group observing the interview found you to be sincere and sympathetic.”

“But
did they believe me?” he asked.

“Although
we can’t come right out and ask our participants, ‘Did you believe him?’ the
implication being that you, um. . .”

“Lied,
yes, I get it.”

The
assistant flipped through some pages on her clipboard.

“Based
on the McCloskey-Shinberg scale, you are fifty-one percent trustworthy in
general and seventy-three percent trustworthy on this particular subject.”

Masterson
relaxed into the leather upholstery and took another sip.Seventy-three percent trustworthiness,
that’s better than the president.

Chapter 4 –
Cyril & Larry

“Dr.
Hu, your report please.”

Larry
Hu, Director of Project Research, held open the limousine door.Masterson stepped out and walked
through the parking garage under Athenian corporate headquarters without
stopping to wait for an answer.

Hu
shut the door and hurried to catch up to his boss.

Masterson
stepped into an elevator with Hu on his heels.Hu pushed the button labeled B2, basement level two.

“We
manufactured forty-nine hundred units today, Mr. Masterson.That is really quite good.We could make more if you approved the
allocations I outlined in my memo. . .”